Today's A Rainy Day
by errorlifenotfound
Summary: Sometimes it takes a dark alleyway to appreciate the city lights.
1. How

**Today's A Rainy Day**  
_by errorlifenotfound_

_ She walks by sometimes. _

_._

She walks by sometimes.

Which shouldn't mean that much for me.

I see hundreds of people breeze past me every day, leaving a zephyr of their existence in their wake.

People are like a clockwork, the heartbeat thrum pulsing through the gray, cracked streets of this city.

* * *

There is a white-haired man who sits at the window of the record shop at three o' clock every Saturday, the same tune whistling out of his door every time, "American Pie".

If you listen to it every week, you begin to notice the flaws, the little skips in sound where the vinyl wore down and lost its quality. And if you watch closely, you see the man flinch each time, his milky blue eyes blinking fearfully.

* * *

Then there is the young, sharply-dressed African-American boy who runs the Sephora on the corner of Bay and Bloor, whom I have watched for the past two years as he fell deeply in love with the daughter of the owner of Red Dragon Take-Out.

Once in a while, she sees me, and with a smile, she leaves the leftovers of that night's dinner upon the back door's steps. The boy, now a man, would follow her outside, wink at me, and then sweep her off her feet in the deep orange alleyway lights, lips meeting.

* * *

Once, I watched as the all-for-business crowd around me dispersed to reveal an old, pale woman, passed out, later diagnosed with drug overdose. Proclaimed dead 2:10pm, October 14.

They were shocked. Horrified at the fact that a woman like that would _dare_ to die at their feet. It made me sick. There were the ones that called the emergency, but I knew what that woman needed wasn't medical assistance.

They sat there, mute, staring at something that they only saw in the wide black screens of movies, the bragging "Gray's Anatomy" fans finally silent.

* * *

Of course, I think about the sights I had seen that no one else would ever realize.

People with chronic illnesses, snuck away into the dregs of society as their reliable government system threw the black cloak over the public's eyes.

One of my favorites was the squirming bodies of those who were reported as never found, their dried brown blood painted on the walls in a kind of mural of death.

There is no beauty to this kind of living.

It doesn't make you appreciate what you have.

No lessons learned, unless you want to be reminded of your own pathetic mortality.

It makes you want to howl to the moon, cry out to the deaf, then fall and drown with the rest as you are unheard.

It is a slow, slow, death that starts with beautiful hope to the gun pressed against your temple.

* * *

When I look at the sunset-stained dark blue summer evening skies,

I don't post it on Instagram,

Or think about love,

Or write poetry about stars,

I ask myself,

"How many people missed seeing this sky today?"

And I thank my prayers

That she walks by sometimes.

.

_She walks by sometimes._


	2. On

**Today's A Rainy Day  
**_by errorlifenotfound_

_Love is my salvation._

.

It had been a while since she had tried to remember.

To be honest, it was painful. It hurt when she got to the place before he had saved her, protected her from her own demons.

God, she hated cleaning for this exact reason. The busy work messed with her mind, made her think things she wished she didn't. Anna wiped the last of the sticky mold off of the window, staring out onto Yonge Street, cars and pedestrians chasing each other in an endless circle.

It wasn't that she was oblivious to it all, to him. She knew what her love was labelled as, a love born from hate, perhaps not even a love at all.

Did all of this really make it illegitimate?

Was _she_ illegitimate?

Anna shook her head.

_I've breathed in too much Windex._

Grinning, Anna ran as she dropped off her cleaning supplies and snatched up her wallet on the kitchen counter. When in doubt, the road was the answer.

She threw herself down the stairs, taking the steps two, three, four at a time as she burst through the door in an explosion of enthusiasm. Wings were spreading out from her feet as she ran down the street, in a hurry to get to nowhere.

The sunlight felt absolutely wonderful on her skin, and she absorbed it up until she felt engorged on happiness. Without a missing a beat, she laughed, the exhilarating rush of summer air blowing past her ears. Odd looks from passing by pedestrians were quickly torn apart into little smiles.

If this is what it meant to be loved…

It was going to be okay.

It was all going to be okay.

.

_Love is my salvation._


	3. I

**Today's A Rainy Day**  
_by errorlifenotfound_

_She walks by sometimes._

_._

It's always at lunch. Mornings are too hard for me.

In the winter, the night frost bites at your toes and it is hard to sleep.

The ones that do are often taken by the cold,

And you know they have been beaten when the shivering stops and their breaths are no longer steamy with life.

In the summer, it is worse.

Summer heat gets the streets lively,

And the nights are punctured with the sounds of gunshots and muffled shouts.

So when my darkened, baggy eyes would notice the sun was a little past perpendicular,

I would ask Kristoff,

"What time is it?"

And he would reply gruffly, coffee in hand,

"Lil' lady, it's about quarter to twelve."

And I would sit there, upon my upturned milk crate, waiting for her to appear.

Because from 12:45 to 1:20pm,

that is when I would be able to catch a glimpse of her beautiful crimson hair,

the sunlight filtering through the strands,

making her glow like the roofs of Venetian houses at sunset.

We haven't had rain all summer, and I pray that it will stay that way.

.

_She walks by sometimes._


	4. Days

**Today's A Rainy Day  
**_by errorlifenotfound_

**Trigger Warning: abusive sex, rape**

_Love is my salvation._

.

Anna walked briskly down the stairs, pulling a new cigarette from the back pocket of her jeans.

"Hans!"

She let out a low growl as she heard his lumbering footsteps. He knew that he was late, and he was taking his time. Quickly, she took out her lighter and flicked it, singing the end of the cigarette. She stood for a while, the scent of nicotine and carcinogens filling the air. The footsteps grew closer.

"Hans, your smoke is gonna blow out."

Immediately, she felt strong arms around her back and shoulders. A very sleepy Hans had draped himself over her, nearly crushing her with his weight.

"Anna, you know I was out late last night…"

"No excuses. Duke needs to see you today."

A pair of yellow, nicotine-stained fingers took the cigarette from Anna's hand. Hans put it between his lips, breathing it in.

"I'm gettin' up. That bastard holds hard deals." Anna grinned, brushing the hair out of Hans' eyes. The bags and black circles stuck out like a sore thumb, and the bruise he had received from the fight was turning blue and purple.

"He also likes his partners well-dressed and on time." Hans pressed his fingers to his temples, gritting his teeth.

"Stop pushing me around, Anna. I'm going to get to it." Anna's grin dropped, feeling guilty. Hans was definitely not in a playful mood this morning.

"God fucking damn it, I was going to be late anyways and now you've got me all worried." Hans grunted as he got up from smothering Anna.

"Honestly, it's best if you just stayed out of this whole deal."

Hans shut the bedroom door in Anna's face with a tone of finality. There were a few muttered curse words, multiple drawers falling open, clothing hitting the floor in a silent rage.

Anna attempted to hide the injury Hans' sentences had inflicted on her. Covering her face with her bangs, she calmly took a few deep breaths. Hans' smoke was still in the air, making her cough as she choked on the pungent scent. She bent over as shuddering heaves took over her body.

The noise brought Hans out of the bedroom, slipping on a white dress shirt and messy tie. He ran fingers through his messy brown hair, attempting to straighten it out. He took another drag on the cigarette, polluting the air with puffs of gray toxins.

"As a dealer's girlfriend, you would think that you'd be able to handle this sort of thing."

Anna's eyes watered as she got up from the floor carefully, using the stair railing to steady herself. She breathed in shallow, sharp breaths, forcing herself not to start another coughing fit.

"I can deal with pot, but this stuff smells even worse than that," she croaked.

Hans frowned, looking away, but after a few seconds of contemplation he threw the cigarette violently onto the floor, crushing it under the heel of his shoe.

"The things I do for you," Hans snarled. Anna smiled sunnily, pecking his cheek. His sideburns tickled her face, and he smelled like day-old beer mixed with burnt hash.

"Thank you."

Hans turned his head, facing her, and using a massive hand, he took Anna from her waist and pulled her in close. Anna reluctantly allowed a chaste kiss, trying to release herself as soon as it ended.

"Hans…"

Paying no attention, Hans continued down the side of Anna's neck, sometimes sucking, sometimes biting. She felt one of last week's wounds break the skin once more. Hans lapped at the blood, but directed his attention once more to the flimsy cami she was wearing.

"Ha-Hans, you're gonna be late…"

Hans broke away from her skin, but grabbed Anna's shoulders. Anna felt the wind knock out of her as she was pinned against the wall. She barely felt it as Hans practically ripped the cami off of her, her lighter clattering to the floor alongside her jeans.

"You owe me a cigarette."

Anna closed her eyes as Hans hungrily ran his tongue over her skin, tasting her, leaving teeth marks that marked her as his, all his. It was supposed to make her feel wanted. The territory of a man she loved. There was nothing more she could want, or should want. She smiled as she felt the familiar feeling of completeness take over her body.

Hans unzipped his own jeans, and Anna felt him enter, making her wince. She was still sore from last night and nowhere near wet, but she dutifully started timing her own thrusts with his. Hans howled under his breath, grabbing Anna's hips and pushing into her in long, hard thrusts. Anna forced herself not to just break away and run. It was always this part that made her want to stop, just stop. She wanted to tell him, to tell him to stop ruining her, stretching her, hurting her.

Anna knew what was coming, and she knew that she had to do it too, immerse herself in the passion Hans felt for her. She threw her head back, screaming, telling herself to clench around him, to lie to him. Hans ended with a rough final thrust, causing Anna to bang her head against the drywall. The loud noise startled him, and Anna found herself collapsing to the floor, facing Hans' shoes. Her arm twisted beneath her, but she felt nothing but numbness.

"Fuck!" he hissed. Liquid dripped down from his body, coating the floor. Anna heard Hans zip himself up again. The feeling of his warm lips across her cheek, and then whispering in her ear.

"That wasn't half bad for once."

The click of shoes along the corridor. Anna moved her head to the side, as she crawled to her knees, allowing Hans to pass. There was a whoosh of air as the door opened, letting her catch a glimpse of the busy street outside.

"I'll be back at five. Wear something cute. We're going to visit Madison." Anna let out a strangled sound to tell him she heard, and there was a slam as once more, she was cut off from contact with the world.

Anna felt the pain in her head and between her legs start to spread in a heavy heat around her body. Gently, she picked herself off the floor. She glanced over at the digital clock, the red numbers reading 1:34. She sighed as she noted the stains all over the floor, as well as the cigarette that had exploded nearby. She would need at least two or three hours to clean up the mess. She attempted to jog over to the bathroom to find the mop.

A single step sent pain waves from her core, making her double over. She let out an audible cry, breathing heavily as she desperately stopped all sudden movements.

Something told her this was going to take a long time.

If this is what it meant to be loved…

It was going to be okay.

It was all going to be okay.

.

_Love is my salvation._


	5. Would

**Today's A Rainy Day**  
_by errorlifenotfound_

_ She walks by sometimes. _

_._

Usually, it's nothing serious. She loves to laugh, and when she does, it's nothing like the tintinnabulation of St. Michael's bells, or the joyful cry of a white-feathered angel.

Rather, her laugh, it is husky and strange, and her voice in itself tells her story.

Long trails of grey smoke, contrasting against the coppery red brick,

a strange man's tongue in her mouth,

the girl herself not sure which death would be quicker.

It seems she chose both, because today, I saw him take her hand and lead her sweet, plush young body into Madison Avenue Pub.

And of course, right after that, I saw her, bruised and broken,

Craving the taste of the man,

That would never give her what she really needed.

But I know the sick games he likes to play,

And I know that tomorrow, he's going to pretend like it never happened.

And the week after, she'll be lying in his extravagant white cotton bed,

While he whispers poison into her ears, into her mind.

While he, the monster, tries to bite her and make her bleed ichor,

To retain her powers and eat her whole.

I do not cry,

Because I've run out of tears,

The night she showed a little too much,

And I noticed the beast clawing its way out,

Paper-thin lacerations of pale red upon her inner thighs.

She still laughs her smoky laugh,

And today I am happy,

Because I almost said hello.

_._

_She walks by sometimes._


	6. With

**Today's A Rainy Day  
**_by errorlifenotfound_

_Love is my salvation._

.

It was ridiculously cold.

Anna shivered as she tried to warm herself with her dirty white hoodie, huddled into the alley corner. It stunk of weeks old Chinese food and dried blood.

Anna glanced warily over at the man in the black garbage bag at the other corner. While she hadn't enjoy the prospect of sharing an alleyway with a possibly dead man, it had been better than her other options last night.

All other alleyways had shunned her, some of them holding gangs of "rebel" teenagers that threw sharp glass and rocks at her. When she ignored them, one unsheathed a kitchen knife.

Technically, she should have been dead. It was lucky that one of the buff "dudes" of the gang had recognized her as Hans' property. He called out that she was "his pot dealer's girlfriend" and the rocks had stopped. However, the knife still glistened in the street lights, and it was clear she was not going to survive the night if she stayed there.

She wiped at her bleary eyes, noting the sun peeking out over the rooftops. The sky was turned a beautiful hue, a gradient from the dark navy blue of night to the yellows, oranges, and reds of the sunrise.

The light reflected off the ground, and she noticed a multitude of coins lying over the ground. She glanced over at the man in the bag.

_Corpse money._

She swallowed hard, looking at it. She hadn't eaten anything since last morning, and she was absolutely parched. She needed it, she really did.

Anna grabbed all the coins. Four quarters, two dimes, one nickel. Some of the coins were new, smooth and silver. Others were rusty, brown, and the contours were worn. They were all clean. Anna eyed the body again. No doubt he had been carrying more than that.

_Grave robber._

Anna shuddered at the thought of touching the man. Absolutely not. She would not let herself fall that far. With a heavy heart, Anna managed to pull herself off of the cement, her fingers grazing the coarse grains and pebbles.

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

She had been a voluptuous brunette, with long locks that lapped at her shoulders like the tide across California beaches. Her defined jawline and cheekbones only enhanced her powerful image.

Hans had told her that he was to "network" with her, perhaps a friendly chat between dealers. He was also a terrible liar – Anna tracked his every movement, the little scratches to his scrubby mustache to the twitching of the centers of his eyes.

It didn't help knowing. It had still hurt when she had walked out of the back entrance of Madison Pub, watching him thrust and climax into her, two snakes slithering, mating, poisoning each other.

"_You didn't have to fucking scream!"_

He had held his head in his hands, the woman gone in a huff, her night "thoroughly ruined".

"_God, Anna. What am I supposed to do? You never come when we fuck. Don't think I don't notice."_

The words had stung worse than any slap, leaving internal bruises, black and blue.

"_You're such a prude. You never want to, and a man's got needs, okay? That's why it happened. It's not my fault! Why can't you just loosen up? It shouldn't even be this big of a deal. Why have you got problems with this? You did this. You were the one who made this an issue."_

She was being crushed from the inside, her legs trembling, her hands covering her face, oceans leaking from her fingers.

"_Stop crying. Stop FUCKING CRYING!"_

If only she knew how to stop just as well as she knew how to run away.

* * *

Somehow, Anna had managed to go without eating breakfast or lunch. Usually a voracious eater, she managed to surprise herself.

Unfortunately, this was not the case for dinner, and Anna aimlessly wandered about Koreatown, staring hungrily through the glass windows. What she wouldn't give for an endless Korean barbecue…

Anna fondled the dollar twenty-five in her jeans' right pocket. She probably had more pocket money when she was fifteen, still young and fresh from dropping out of high school.

She went through her options in her head. McDonalds was only reachable by public transit from where she was, and once she got there her ticket fare would have eaten up all of her money.

Finally, after walking what seemed to be countless blocks of evening street-side sidewalks, Anna finally reached the broke person's utopia; Tim Hortons.

Stepping in, Anna's mouth started to water as the creamy scent of baking pastries wafted through the air. She tapped her foot in line, maroon Converse going up and down, up, down. A few people sitting at the tables sent her dirty looks at the incessant noise.

It got to her turn. She grinned as usual, approaching the counter, her hands opening to reveal four stolen quarters, her mouth opening to speak –

Only to discover that she couldn't.

Her lips moved up and down, just like her foot, but no noises came from her. Anna breathed hard, trying to reveal what her voice was trying to say but to no avail. Her throat was closing up, her heart pulling her vocal cords back into her stomach.

"…Excuse me? M'am, we have a lot of customers to serve. I'm going to have to ask you to speak up, please."

Anna became more and more frantic, until finally, finally she managed to squeak out her order.

_"…one Hawaiian sprinkle."_

The feeble attempt was enough, and Anna pointed at the donut on the rack to lead the worker. She honestly felt bad; she hadn't been looking for trouble.

"That'll be one dollar exactly."

Anna laid down her four quarters, trading them for Paradise. As soon as her hands hit the brown package, she practically ran out of the store, ready to snarf the donut without having judging eyes in a tight space.

Her first bite was orgasmic (not that she would know, but still), and she licked her lips as she tasted the savoury vanilla icing mixing with the little rainbow sphere-sprinkles. Her stomach felt fuller, her mind clearer and a lot more emotionally stable.

About three-quarters of the way through her donut, trying desperately to save some of it for later, Anna heard a sound akin to the incredible food in her mouth.

Snapping her neck back, her feet backing up as she passed an orange construction zone, she noticed a young blonde woman singing along to her guitar.

_If music be the food of love, play on._

Anna watched as the girl threw her head back, eyelids fluttering closed, her pale face illuminated by alternating white and red lights as car after car drove by. Her blonde hair was wild and splayed out across her head, but the ends of it had been braided together carefully onto one side.

Oh, but her voice. It wasn't anything husky or sultry, thick with lust, the kind of voices Anna was used to hearing. No, every tonal change in her voice transforming the song into a living being. When her lips parted, Anna swore that she could see a physical form of beauty crystallize into the stars that dotted the sky.

If she hadn't been in complete bliss, she would have wept, wept for a girl who had fallen from heaven's choir.

So still recovering from a euphoric high from the gift of Tim Hortons, Anna moved in close. Moving in, the centimeters between the two closing rapidly.

As she approached, she memorized every imperfection in the girl's face. The slight lilt of her chin to the left, the light freckles covering the bridge of her nose, smudges of dirt on her neck, just above the collarbone.

She got so close that she felt like the crystal voice would break her heart.

* * *

When Anna returned back to the apartment that night, Hans welcomed her with rough white sheets and rusty bed springs, accompanied with blood that tasted like copper love.

But this time, with her pockets empty, her mind and body strong, and her head filled with songs and images of a certain blonde woman,

It hurt a little less.

If this is what it meant to be loved…

It was going to be okay.

It was all going to be okay.

.

_Love is my salvation._


	7. Kiss

**Today's A Rainy Day**  
_by errorlifenotfound_

_She walks by sometimes._

_._

When they are around,

I hear their harsh breathing, thick lungs and hearts and bodies and minds

Coupled with loud thoughts and brazen glances.

They fidget when they wait

For the little traffic lights to blink green or white,

Fingers tapping upon the pockets of their faded blue jeans,

Or perhaps sipping liquid sugar out of a colorful aluminum can.

When people talk,

Lips moving,

Tongues slithering,

Fangs snarling,

Their voices bark and cry like the animals we are,

And if you listen,

You hear exactly what they say

And also what they mean.

* * *

Today, I brought out Kristoff's weathered, second-hand guitar,

Right out of the rusty toolbox welded to the side of his pickup.

I marveled,

Danced,

My fingers fluttering across the top,

The strings reverberating,

a sharp, out-of-tune twang.

* * *

Talking, you see,

You need two things,

A message,

And a meaning.

I have neither.

Songs, they write both for you,

So when I sing, I don't need to grasp at slippery vocabulary

Or navigate the dark, winding staircase of lisp and stutter.

Kristoff, he worked,

Biceps rippling as his hot human sweat dripped off his forehead,

And I sang.

* * *

When I sing, there are those who stop,

Look at me,

Fill me with pity and silver coins

All leftover from their 2pm coffee break.

When I sing, I close my eyes,

And it looks like I'm trying too hard,

And it is true.

Because that is the only way I have found

That makes the song belong to me only.

Unfortunately,

That makes it hard to share,

And the dollar signs disappear from watery eyes

As they all simply march on.

* * *

Today, while my voice grew cracked and weary,

My fingertips sore and aching from plucking at razor strings,

My eyes not paying attention to the blood rays of the sun,

Nor asking for the time

by glancing at a passerby's watch,

I heard her voice.

For the first time,

Directed to me.

It was quick,

But sweet.

And the noise,

The emergency sirens and frantic honking

Little black iPods and clicks of red high-heeled shoes,

The crazy hoots of city pigeons and the snarky laughs of nearby strangers,

The noise stopped,

And all I could hear was that

beautiful,

thick,

lustful voice.

Followed by three clinks of change

That didn't even compare

To the treasure I had just received.

* * *

I stopped singing,

My words no longer ringing about the streets,

The buzz of neon blue and red "OPEN" signs

of pizza places and back-alley Thai

and the frantic shattering of emerald beer bottles on cement

brand name Stella Artois,

all of it just breaking the heavy static running through my mind,

society coming back to life in a single instant.

And I looked up at Kristoff,

As I handed him his little old guitar,

Completely,

And utterly,

Shaken.

* * *

That night,

When I covered my face and head with safe, anonymous cloth,

I remembered the little red-haired demon,

Leaning in to my blind, singing face,

Whispering those loud loud loud stereotypical words

without needing a message or meaning,

And behind her, the little cheapskate,

leaving two dimes and a nickel,

as well immeasurable joy.

It was the only money I had received that day.

The only money I had received in ages,

In days,

In weeks,

In months.

But I knew,

I knew,

that I would spend it in an instant,

Leaning against the scratched plastic of the payphone stall,

Willing to listen to dial tone forever,

If it meant I got to hear her melodic cry

through that grainy receiver filter,

Just one more time.

"_Your singing voice is beautiful."_

.

_She walks by sometimes._


	8. Gray

**Today's A Rainy Day  
**_by errorlifenotfound_

**Content Warning: sexual abuse, manipulation**

_Love is my salvation._

.

Anna's stomach rumbled as she took step after step, the muscles in her upper thighs twitching with effort. Luckily, her unsightly gait was masked by the busy movement of the cars on the road next to her. Not to mention there were plenty of other regulars on this street who walked in a stranger fashion than she did. And some who didn't walk at all.

Anna felt like she had been shot in the gut. Besides just Hans' treatments every night and sometimes mornings, she hadn't eaten a spot of breakfast and now she was sorely regretting the decision. As soon as the clock had hit 12:40pm, she had bolted out of the apartment and down the street until the pain in her core had become a low simmering to a searing fire.

Finally, finally Anna had reached her haven. While Tim Hortons was great for donuts and such, 6-inch Subway sandwiches could hold her until the next day if needed. She eagerly pushed the door open, delighted to find that there was no line. An old man with milky blue eyes sat at a table, snuffling a bit and humming along to a familiar tune.

Anna took a deep breath in for a moment, appreciating the scent of bacon and cheese and red onions and god knows what else. It was clear half the stuff in the sandwiches weren't natural, just the way Anna liked it.

As she approached the counter, however, the scent began to fade away. Her eyes began to dart to other places than the sandwich artist, her throat closing up. Her mouth went dry, her tongue unable to form coherent words. She wiped her sweaty palms on the sides of her jeans, breathing hard.

_Oh shit. Not this again._

"What would you like?" asked the artist boredly in a heavy Chinese accent. Anna cringed. The artist's bang-covered eyes were tired but fierce, and there was no doubt she was going to get a beating for "messing around".

"…ah." Anna swallowed harshly. "B… BLT."

_Thank god for three letter sandwich names._

The woman raised an eyebrow skeptically, but pressed on. Deftly picking up a paper wrap with gloved hands, she eyed the bun stacks.

"What kind of bread would you like it on? Any added cheese?"

Anna coughed into her hand, lightly at first. A few awkward seconds passed until the coughing became a loud hacking, and Anna felt like she was going to throw up last night's dinner.

"Miss? Miss, are you alright?"

Anna grabbed the edge of the table as she felt her legs give out. Her knees kissed the ground as the hacks became violent wheezing. The woman behind the counter appeared to now be thoroughly concerned, but mainly for her own health. Anna continued her coughing until she motioned that she still wanted to order. The artist huffed with annoyance, but belted out a few suggestions.

"You would like it on Italian Herbs and Cheese? And you would like the American cheddar with that?"

Anna managed to nod, then pointed towards the microwave to motion that she wanted it toasted. The artist sighed as she hastily put bacon on the bread, then cheese on top of that. She stuck it in the oven, setting the time to twenty seconds.

Anna's wheezes were starting to subside, until her breathing became regular again. She got up off the floor, looking at the artist directly in the eyes as a sign of thanks.

"Cat got your tongue?" asked the artist a little sarcastically, but fixed it with a pity stare. The microwave dinged and she quickly took the sandwich out. Anna pointed to the lettuce, tomatoes, and red onions, as well as the light mayonnaise.

"Coming right up," she mumbled. After heaping on the ingredients, she quickly rolled the sandwich up with the paper, and placed it in a plastic bag.

"To go, am I correct?" Anna nodded, and placed a five dollar bill along with a two dollar coin next to it. She pointed to the vending machine behind the sandwich artist and made a drinking motion.

"Water. Good choice." Anna nodded, and the artist handed her the water bottle, still cold from the machine, along with her sandwich.

"Your change comes to twenty five cents."

Two dimes and a nickel clattered to the counter, and Anna slid them into her coat. She started walking out, taking slow, heavy steps to the door. Suddenly, she remembered. Turning around and wincing as she cleared her throat, she muttered,

"…Thank."

The artist looked absolutely confused, replying with a curt, "You're welcome," before Anna rushed out the door, face blazing with heat, her ears red from the incessant blush caused by her absolute embarrassment. The door slammed behind her with a satisfying clack.

However, as soon as Anna took a step onto the sidewalk, she noticed the extra weight in the bag tugging at her right arm.

_Hold up…_

_Did I just order a footlong?_

* * *

Anna waited patiently.

Very patiently, especially for her.

But when your man didn't return at the usual time of 2am, you could tell when something was up.

Anna held her head in her hands, facing the door.

2:01am.

2:02am.

2:15am.

2:48am.

She would wait here all night if she had to.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang as the door clattered open, and Anna let out a high-pitched squeak of terror, expecting a burglar of some sort, only to find herself wrapped up in a warm bear hug, the room spinning around her.

"Anna!"

Anna giggled as she kissed Hans lightly on his cheek, his scrubby sideburns tickling her chin. There was a loud, hearty laugh as she hugged him close, fixing the ruffled state of his bed-hair. Strong, warm hands enclosed her own.

"Did you wait for me?"

Anna nodded in reply, smiling. Hans looked sheepish. "Was it for a long time?"

Anna shook her head. "It was worth it." Hans broke out into a grin as he wrapped her up in his arms once again. He moved in for a kiss, his lips heavy and hot on hers. At first, Anna enjoyed the feeling of his markings, the little nips that he was making with his teeth. Then his face grew closer and closer, his grunts animalistic, smothering her, making it more and more difficult for her to breathe.

The movement started slow, with Hans was pressing her up against the wall, eyes darkening with lust. Fingers began to reach down, playing with the waistband of her sweatpants. Anna buried her face into his neck, her mouth open in a silent whisper, trying to discourage him from continuing. He smelled like day-old beer and other women's perfume.

She felt herself rocking against the weak drywall, thump after thump. His hips were grinding into hers, hard and beastly and she hated it. This is not what she had waited for.

_Oh no._

Hans licked his lips as he backed off a bit, and Anna swore that she could see fangs popping out of the sides of his mouth.

_No._

"Hans, please," she whimpered into his ear. "Please stop. Not today…"

There was a long pause, Hans placing his forehead to hers. For about a minute, all she heard was the sound of her own trepidation and his heavy breathing. To her joy, Hans stopped altogether, albeit a little frustratedly, but he got off of her, zipping up his jeans. He looked out the night-stained windows, a crazed, almost mad look in his green eyes. He hid the right side of his face with his hand.

"Your loss," he mumbled into his palm dejectedly. Anna felt terrible; it's not that she wanted to deprive him, it was just that… she didn't want it. No wonder his eyes and hands were accustomed to wandering their frequent night clubs and bars.

"Hans, I'm so sorry." Hans looked back at her, picking himself up again at the apology.

"It's a good thing I'm in a good mood today!" He smiled and Anna perked up a bit as well.

"What happened that was so great?"

Hans laughed.

"I got a promotion! And a bigger paycheck!" Anna squealed as she pecked his cheek again, and he frowned, turning his head to sneak in a deeper kiss. Anna groaned as she rolled her eyes and futilely starting pulling herself away from him.

"Mmph… Hans…"

Hans threw up his hands, backing away from her. His eyebrows had knitted together into a "v", and he closed his eyes stubbornly.

"Alright, alright, if you don't want to celebrate, that's cool." Anna looked away, ashamed. Hans shook his hand dismissively, digging his hand into his jacket. He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, and offered Anna one, which she promptly refused.

He stuck out the orange end of it, and Anna obligingly took the lighter out and lit it up, the toxic smoke filling the room once again. She stared at the lighter for a moment, flicking the wheel back and forth. They both watched, mesmerized, as the wick's flame ranged from yellow to orange to blue. Anna took little breaths in order to avoid choking.

"One day, the landlord is totally going to get on your ass about this whole smoking thing."

Hans exhaled loudly, the fumes making Anna's eyes water. She quickly hung her head, blinking away any stray tears.

"It'll be too late by then. Ol' landlord will be hooked on my crack, he ain't be able to do anything to me."

Anna's eyes widened, looking up from her sock-clad feet, forcing herself not to inhale too quickly. "Wait, what? You're selling crack now?"

Hans snorted. "I told you I got a promotion, am I right? It's not that different from marijuana."

Anna puffed her cheeks out. "Only makes it harder to clean the house."

Hans poked her neck. "It's the only thing that you do around here anyways."

Anna shot him a steely glare. "I could do more if you gave me a little more freedom, you know."

He sighed exhaustedly. "Anna, you have to understand, I love you, that's why I keep you here."

"The least you could do is let me have my own free will!"

"I make the money, I protect you. You need me." Hans' voice grew into a deep growl.

"The least you could do is love me back."

Anna growled. Since when had she ever _not_ loved Hans? Did he just equate sex with love?

"I'm gonna go to bed. It's too late for this kind of thing." Hans pushed Anna to the side, not even giving her a second glance. He threw off his jacket onto the couch, landing with a loud thump.

Anna felt a lump form in her throat, the remnants of a sob that was close to ripping out of her chest. She felt a familiar sinking feeling, that it always ended up like this, with her and him and that empty tone when he said "love". She hated it; hating that she wasn't enough, was never going to be enough. The snide voices at the back of her mind started mumbling, whispering into her ears.

_That's no excuse for not trying._

_You are his woman. He's marked you._

_It's part of the job._

_He's always working for you, and you're complaining._

_Why can't you just accept it?_

_Why are you so selfish?_

_Why?_

_Why?_

_Just do it already!_

Jerking herself out of her trance, Anna turned towards Hans' muscled back. She ran at him with quick, yet heavy footsteps and hugged him tightly from behind.

Without missing a beat, Hans grabbed Anna roughly around her wrist and she felt his lips run over her skin once more. Her breath caught, her every muscle straining to keep herself from running. Taking the cue, Anna leaned forward and whispered in his ear,

"I changed my mind… let's celebrate."

If this is what it meant to be loved…

It was going to be okay.

It was all going to be okay.

.

_Love is my salvation._


	9. Your

**Today's A Rainy Day  
**_by errorlifenotfound_

_She walks by sometimes._

.

In a city of fools,

Where does a walking travesty

Hide herself?

This morning,

When the eighteen-wheelers came in

With their bright painted advertisements,

And morning grumbles filled with night smoke,

I watched the sky

As it became rose

To pastel violet

To a brilliant blue.

It is different from sunset,

The time of day where the sun lays down

With an almost imperceptible sigh,

Her final blood red tears

Donning the clouds a pink hue.

It is a beautiful death,

Whereas sunrise

Is much like the first chord

Of your favorite song,

Or perhaps

The feeling you get

When you are dizzy-drunk,

Ready to regret your decisions tomorrow

And simply enjoy today.

I am not an early bird,

But sunrise is something worth converting for.

.

I exhale.

She is late today.

Very late.

It doesn't scare me

At all.

It terrifies me.

.

Angry boys,

Angry boys with your backwards caps

And filthy sneaks

And shining, hateful eyes

Curved mouths

And white, white teeth.

Angry boys with your angry words,

Nothing but "shit"

To give to her.

Angry boys, your hands exploring her lap

Fingers interlacing

In a disgusting display

Of mistaken affection.

Angry boys,

I fear for you

Just as much

As I fear for her.

Hopefully one day,

You may not be as angry

People change

With a little bit of love

You will see.

Until then,

Spit at me as you walk on by.

As long as I have taught you something,

It is enough.

.

When I finally saw her,

My breath caught,

And I was flooded with

Glacier, ice-cold relief.

They all said there were no killings yesterday,

But with her,

Together with him,

I know that his expression

Is more than just aggression.

.

She is off today.

I know because she usually lilts to her right,

While today she prefers her left leg,

And it looks like a gust of wind from the opposite direction

Could blow her paper body right into the street.

I can imagine him against her,

Taking her limbs,

Spreading her like the branches of a young tree,

Bending,

Bending,

Just to see

How far he could go

Before they snapped.

.

"Have you had lunch yet?"

There it is again, her smoky voice

Laced with only love,

Love for the world and

All the calamity that walks upon it.

And I don't only want her to survive,

I want her to live.

I shake my head.

"I bought too much. Want some?"

Oh,

Her beautiful dimples

When she smiles,

The white, white teeth of an angry boy

And the soft sweet lips of a broken girl

Her features all seem to disappear when she frowns,

And it leaves me no choice.

What more can I do but nod?

.

"_What makes it okay to love someone?"_

"_What makes it okay to think that other people can decide that for you?"_

"…_Then I know that I am in love with him."_

.

I suppose some

Think that lunch is lunch,

Words are words,

Laughs are laughs.

And I simply do not understand

How one can look at a city so vast

And think

That so much

Could mean

So little.

.

_She walks by sometimes._


	10. Skies

**Today's A Rainy Day  
**_by errorlifenotfound_

**Content Warning: Self-harm, sexual abuse**

_Love is my salvation._

.

"_You again?"_

"_What can I say? You make me to think."_

"_I don't make you do anything. Those thoughts are all yours."_

.

She pushed her nose into her pillow, breathing in the light scent of shampoo mixed with week-old marijuana.

He was doing lines in the bathroom.

* * *

Anna loved Honest Ed's.

To most people, it was a mess. An archaic maze of a mall to be sold in a few years. Good riddance.

But the crazy labyrinth of shops inside it always piqued Anna's interest, especially on lonely days. There were mirrors upon mirrors, and exits somehow always led to entrances. She had gotten lost more than once among the paper umbrellas and Staples-esque pen shelves.

It helped that the sales were insanely well priced – duplicate shoes from China for only two dollars? No wonder her entire closet consisted of ratty, second-hand clothing.

But it wasn't only clothes she bought, no.

It was awful, the whole lot of uselessness she bought. The shiny fake items on the shelves fell apart after a few touches here and there. After learning her lesson the hard way, Anna kept collections of her treasures hidden underneath her bed. Whenever Hans pushed a little too hard, she would struggle to keep the bed springs from stretching too far and crushing one.

At night, the little bright lights around the signs would flash in order, groups of three, just like the Broadway shows she would see on TV. When she stood in the Cat Alley, jazz and blues belting out from between those lights, happy drunks laughing and singing around her, she would forget, just for a moment, that she belonged to someone else. She remembered what it was like a few years ago, when she didn't have to remind herself to put down the razor.

Nowadays, it never seemed to leave her wrist.

* * *

"Anna."

Anna pushed a strand of her ginger hair over her right ear, humming to herself.

"Anna."

She quickly flipped the little pancake, sizzling in oil on the pan's surface.

"_Anna._"

"Hold up, I'm trying to concentrate."

Anna wiped her hands on her apron, reaching back and untying the bow at the back. A colossal stack of mini chocolate chip pancakes stood towering on her plate. Ever so carefully, she poured a ridiculous amount of syrup on top.

"Anna, I need you to listen to me right now."

Anna huffed frustratedly. The strawberries on top weren't lining up. She grabbed a can of whipped cream to cover up her mistakes.

"Can it wait?"

Her fingers were going to get syrupy if she tried to push the berries into place, which would only lengthen her clean up time.

"Anna, who's this girl you've been talking to?"

Anna tensed up, her lips forming a straight line. After observing her stack for a while, she decided she had finished with her masterpiece. She grabbed the plate and walked stiffly to the kitchen table, sitting down with a fake sigh. There were a few moments of awkward silence before Anna realized she had yet to reply.

"Oh. Ha ha. She's just a girl."

Hans stared into his coffee cup. His fingers tapped lightly on the edge of his seat.

"Duke said you talk to her a lot. Have lunch with her." His mouth upturned into a sneer, his tone becoming arrogant, accusatory. "Y'know, get out of your fucking merry way to cater to the bitch."

Anna licked her lips nervously, shooting back a quick response this time. "Nah, I just give her a bite to eat sometimes. Homeless, you know."

She stabbed the stack of pancakes violently, cutting out an enormous slice from the center. Hans watched her eat the monstrosity of a breakfast.

"You talk to her too much for my liking. Practically every day, isn't it?"

Anna puffed out her full cheeks, chewing. "I talk to a lot of people."

"That should stop." Anna paused to swallow.

"Hans, now you're just being weird. I know it's not safe around here, but still, I should get to talk to people."

"I don't trust her, Anna."

"You mean, you don't trust _me _with her," Anna snapped back.

"How did you even get to that conclusion?"

"I'm not a child, Hans."

Hans slammed the table with his cup.

"THEN STOP FUCKING ACTING LIKE ONE!"

Anna's knife clattered to the table, her body frozen. She covered the side of her face with her bangs, fear flooding back, heart sinking into her stomach.

_Please, dear god, not this morning, it was three times last night –_

To her relief, Hans simply went on. "I'm not having my girlfriend being stolen by some retard street lesbo. She's _dangerous_, Anna. I don't care whatever three-line conversations you're having with her, but it needs to stop."

"…You never seem to stop it with the bar women."

Hans closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair.

"I said I was sorry."

"That doesn't change the fact that you fuck a new one every week."

"Well, considering you hate having sex with me so much, I thought you wouldn't care," he said sarcastically. "And not to mention, it wasn't me who decided to whore myself up and gift my body parts to the next man who walks in."

"You decide to accept that gift."

"What sane man wouldn't?"

A pause.

"Are you saying that you're only with me because of my body?"

Hans jeered. "Jesus, Anna, no. If I wanted body, I would have gone for that hot Latina chick from three weeks ago."

Anna looked up at him defiantly. "So what's so great about me, huh?"

Hans lunged at Anna, grabbing her wrist, skin purple and sore from his last treatment. Anna hissed underneath her breath as the bruise lighted up a heavy, fiery pain underneath multiple places on her skin – her thighs, her back, her neck, her arms…

"Because I can do whatever I want with you."

He twisted the wrist gently, but firmly.

"And I know I won't get any resistance."

Hans loosened his grip and swiftly turned his head to the side, pushing himself upwards from the chair. He shot her a look before he left.

"Wouldn't hurt to lose some of that baby fat, though."

The floor shook as Hans stomped away, presumably to take a shower before his next deal.

Anna stared at her plate.

She'd lost her appetite.

If this is what it meant to be loved…

It was going to be okay.

It was all going to be okay.

.

_Love is my salvation._


End file.
